Sunflowers and Tears
by nnaa
Summary: Slight NaruSaku After a 16 yearold Naruto is missing, believed dead at the Valley of the End the Akatsuki gains a shady new member. Can Sakura and the others save Naruto in time? The one man who shares Naruto's bloodline may be able to, his father. Angst!
1. Disappearance at the End

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruo, places,characters, etc...

A little explanation before we begin: in this fic, the first little section (with Naruto) is in 3rd person past tense. From there, it changes to the different 1st person perspecive, depending on whose name the section is labled under in bold.

The reason, also, that when in 1st person speech and thoughts are in bold is because, not only is this in past tense, but the characters are also looking **_back _**on their experiences, hence the almost illegal over- use of 'had'

Anyway, this is the first time I've attempted something like this, so I would appreciate it so much if you could read and review, telling me a few of your thoughts.

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**_Sunflowers and Tears_**

Naruto swore, the last kuni having drawn blood from his left cheek. He raised a –slightly clawed- hand to inspect the damage- **no time!** His opponent dove again, favouring Taijutsu and slashing wildly- yet with deadly precision -with the bloodied kuni.

**Not good! Is it that obvious I'm no good at Taijutsu? I need to get some distance.**

The enemy ninja darted left, skirting the mountainous statue which vacated the left side of The Valley of the End, her legs powering her way towards the boy. Naruto flinched, and then swore as the reaction messed up his hand- signs. The fist connected with his face and he span away, leaving trails of saliva on the air. The blonde crumpled against the tree (or what had remained of it) that had broken his fall. Splinters showered into his eyes as he squinted past the slick blood running down his brow.

**One more hit like that...and it's the end for me. Good thing Yamato's been teaching me to supress the Nine tail's charkra, otherwise there'd be no Valley of the End ...nor half of the Fire Country**

The enemy ninja was a missing-nin from Wave Country, and had abandoned her village to some murdourous extent some three years earlier, not without lifting two or three of the most dangerously secret scrolls with her- it was all in his A- rank mission brief.

However, a missing-nin can never be too careful. Naruto's opponent was no exception, with three of her allies keeping both Kakashi and Sakura occupied some three miles back into the forest. Naruto was alone with the formidable 'Phantom' Ashki. He didn't stand a chance, and he knew it. How worried must his teammates be? After all, this was only supposed to be a scouting, information retrieval mission. The fact that it was A-ranked meant there was a high risk of detection.

**And guess what? Boy, were we detected...and trapped...for that matter...damn...**

Ashki stood, some twenty metres from the Leaf Ninja, her tall frame lazily slumped in a subconscious act of confidence. She brought the kuni to her lips, the blood dying her lips a vivid ruby colour.

"Tastes like strawberries," she teased through a hiss, her pupil-less eyes taking in the form of the young Leaf Ninja, now slowly taking to his feet again, the dangerous flash of scarlet in his eyes, but something else- fear?

The missing-nin took slow, deliberate steps towards the younger ninja. The kuni was replaced with ten of her most deadly throwing needles, their steel teeth seeming to grin at the teenage victim. "Time to play, boy,"

**Sakura**

Life is short as a Shinobi. Yeah, Ok, sure. We all knew-know that. That message has been drilled into Leaf Ninjas since our Academy days, podgy six year olds waddling their way home with the fresh knowledge that tomorrow they might die. It's something we accept, a way of life. It's an expectation.

You see, it's the drive that keeps us going- the urge to become a bigger, stronger person. Protect the village. Protect the family, the friends, the lovers and the memories. In Konohoa we call it the 'Will of Fire'. You do this, become this stronger better person and you are less likely to die. As a medic-nin I witnessed, and understood, that a majority of our mission casualties are composed of Genin and Chuunin. They're not yet strong enough, they haven't the Will of Fire. Like I said, life is short: kid's die on missions- it's an occupational hazard.

Perhaps I would have been able to cope if he'd died- Naruto, I mean. At least I would have had something- _anything_, really to hold onto, to grieve. I'd have been able to mourn his corpse, hold onto his (although cold and lifeless) hand, confess my regrets one last time to the only team-mate I had left, the one that had kept me strong for so many years.

**He'll never know**, I kept thinking. **He'll never know how good he has been to me**, as the regret came again in a great wash of remorse. For that one frozen second as I surveyed the scene (-scarlet splattered dirt, the age-old canyon fuelling the roaring waters impassively-) I think my heart might have stopped. A thought right then: **He's dead, taken by the river...my ****Naruto** After all, if he was no-one else's, I made him my own. The earth met my knees and I stared, long hard at the dirt floor, almost accusing the very earth for taking my Naruto. I could see it clearly in my mind's eye- how quick I was to picture such morbid scenes!- the slow procession of black-clad shinobi, much like Sarutobi's funeral had been. Except this time it wasn't raining, the sun was high, as bright as ever, spreading its rays onto the wet faces below. The grave itself- swimming in daffodils, sunflowers and cowslips his younger (followers? Admirers?) from the Academy had gathered, the white stone bearing the legend: "Konohoa's Number One Unpredictable Ninja."

Kakashi came behind me, surveying the scene soberly with both eyes and breaking my desperate train of thought. I turned my sore eyes to him, not realising that I had taken my nails to my face in my almost suicidal thoughts.

**"****No body,****"**he had stated clearly, thinking this might have brought me round.**"****It's possible he's still out there and alive.****"**Slowly I shook my head from side to side. No matter what he told me then, I'd already realised my situation: I'd been left with nothing. Sasuke had long since vanished, and now Naruto, too.

Life is short, and right there I came to the conclusion that the purest people lived the shortest of them all.

**Kakashi**

We didn't hold a funeral for Naruto. It wouldn't be right seeing as he wasn't technically alive or dead- he was somewhere in-between, where his state of life or death mattered solely on opinion. Besides, there was no body, so a memorial service was held a week after his disappearance just in the entrance to the graveyard- halfway between the marked graves and the KIA monument. It was fitting somehow, seeing as my pupil was neither. Naruto- how many times had I scolded you for playing for attention? And now everyone was paying attention, or rather paying their respects to your monument. The statue itself had been carved from rock taken from the Hokage Mountainside, shaped by the Kazekage himself into an intricate oak tree, symbolic of the leaf village and the shelter it gives to young shinobi. A shrine of shrine of flowers (Sakura had requested the visitors bring yellow) and cards and scrolls full of thoughts and prayers rooted the statue into place. On that day, I wouldn't have been surprised if I had counted over fifty people paying their respects- for such a short life to live, Naruto certainly had pressed his influence onto a lot of different lives.

He really was the sunshine of so many people, some of which were taking this sudden darkness with distress. Konohamaru was affected worse, spare for my only remaining student. He'd lost his idol, his rival and perhaps most devastating, his 'older brother'.

However, if you'd take a moment to look from your classroom window, or take a slightly different route in Konohoa, you'd see a circle of perfect saffron, a sun and a golden hope directly between the graveyard and the KIA monument. Naruto might have been gone, but his personality certainly had been kept alive by his friends.

Don't get me wrong,- I didn't think for a minute that Naruto had truly died- a conviction I often shared with Sakura, but with no result. In fact, I had worked with Lady-Tsunade to put together an elite tracker ninja team. Myself, along with my team of nin-dogs, Kiba and Akamaru, Yamato, a specialised Medic-nin (I would have requested Sakura, had she not been in such a distracted depression over Naruto's 'death) and two high ranking ANBU made 'Team Naruto'. In a way, this might have been my own answer to memorialising my lost pupil, but at least this might yield better results than bitter tears or sunflowers.

**Tsunade**

In all honesty, I was worried sick. This whole process- loss, mourning and learning to adjust without a certain golden-haired ninja was taking its toll on me. I had to deal with a lot of new arrangements, mainly the memorial outside Konohoa graveyard, the total disbanding of Team Kakashi (I took Sakura on as my full-time apprentice), and the Formation of Team Naruto. When the silver-haired copy ninja came to me, proposing devising a team specifically to search for Naruto- or at least evidence of his death- I eventually begrudged him, although doubtfully and sceptically at first.

After making this decision, and thinking more on it, I called Jiraiya to my office. I asked him to join Team Naruto, as his information retrieval would be invaluable to the team. The Sannin had sobered greatly since the death of his second pupil- the one that was most likely to succeed the first, the Yondaime.

**"****Tsunade****, I have no intention of joining Team ****Naruto****."** He held up a hand to stem my protests, **"That is something I believe ****Kakashi**** has to do for himself. Perhaps he has lost one team-mate too** **many."** I knew he was referring to Obito and Rin. **"As for myself, I intend to gather information by myself. It'****s**** the way I work best. Besides, it's something I, too**** have to do,"**That night, Jiraiyaleft konohoatwo days after Team Naruto had been dispatched.

**Kiba**

We'd been travelling for two days to reach the Valley of the End. Fitting, somehow. Yes, I believed Naruto to be dead- how else could his sudden disappearance be explained? However, I had been called for to search for my friend and I was going to honour my commitment.

Looking back now, we were lucky it hadn't rained since Naruto was counted among the missing. On the day of his memorial the skies had been overcast, a thick sort of light grey. The air had been warm- a sign of low laying clouds. Anyone with basic weather lore knew that rain was likely. However, rain was the one thing that would wash away and trace of the blonde's (last?) movements. But it hadn't rained. The skies had cleared and Team Naruto had been dispatched on its A-rank mission.

Spirits were low.

By the second day, we arrived at the valley. Some things had changed, we heard from Kakashi. I noticed that the blood-splatters had faded, although the scent still hung loosely in the air. I focused- there was confusion-a mixture of scents that suggested wild animals had also been attracted by the reek of fresh blood. Had a bear or wild boar taken Naruto while he laid bleeding or dying? I shared my theory with the team leader, Kakashi.

**"No, the only blood markings are closer to the valley cliff and the ****very edge of the forest. If he had been taken an****y**** deeper into the trees, there would be more of a trail,"** He had explained.

I had thought that this was mainly hopeful thinking, but I kept my thoughts to myself. The medic-nin took a sample of the blood and began comparing the results to that on a pre-made card.

**"It's his,"**

he noted duly, as we all knew he would. I saw Kakashi stiffen slightly. Had he been expecting otherwise? That the blood was Ashki's (who had also been deemed missing) and that Naruto had fought bravely, defeated the missing-nin and had crawled into the forest in search for someone to heal his serious yet non-lethal wounds? I suspected Kakashi harboured this suspicion close to his heart. One blood sample would not change that.

**Jiraiya**

I drank slowly, possibly for the first time in my life. I sipped slowly, letting the sake slow my spinning thoughts. I finished the last of the alcohol and replaced the pen in my hand to finish the report to Tsunade.

_**...that the ****Akatuki**** have been active in this past week, dispatching members to the rain country.**** It is a fact now that they possess the demons from one to eight tails. With ****Naruto****, their control would be complete. I harbour suspicions that they have heard of ****Naruto's**** 'disappearance' (which is to be expected) and that they are hunting for him/ his body with the intention of retrieving the ****Kyuubi**** from it. This must be thwarted at all costs. I have one more lead to follow up before I return to ****Konohoa****. I will send my last report once I have finished at the soonest possible chance.**_

_**-****Jiraiya****-**_

At that point in my life, I had never felt wearier. Even after Arashi's defeat, the legendary Yondaime, my beloved student, I had never felt as depressed as I did with Naruto's. Perhaps it was the fact Naruto was barely seventeen. Maybe I was growing sentimental as an old man. Or perhaps it was the fact that although Arashi hadn't in fact died, his legacy, along with his bloodline, had ended with Naruto. Kakashi had told me once that he believed Naruto had what it took to surpass the Fourth.

**"It's the law of the land that the next generation must be greater than the previous,"**I had replied.

**"In this case, the law is applied ****literally** ," Kakashi's one visible eye had widened slightly, betraying the fact I had confirmed his suspicion of Naruto's heritage.

Later that night I found myself waiting, concealed in shadows and my chakra hidden, so as to not leave a single trace. The Akatsuki would pass through the city, my sources were of the most reliable kind. If I had been honest with myself, I did not know what I had been expecting, or if I had -dared- thought that I would discover what I had that night. I had had one job to do, although not as apparently important that Team Naruto's had been, but it was my duty nonetheless. The Akatsuki were moving and that was reason enough to be suspicious, whether or not I would unearth some information on a certain (dead? Missing?) blonde student of mine.

Although sooner than I had prepared for, I had finally I witnessed one Akatsuki member flitter across the tiled roofs of the city street, stopping only once to expect his surroundings and plan his next move, his crouching silhouette cut out against the pale, pregnant moon. There were others, too- I could feel their seprately distinct chakra signals pressing into me no matter how they had attempted to hide them. I had, however, felt nothing form the particular shinobi I had briefly encountered. And then he was gone. I'd lowered my heart rate, my nervousness folding back into myself and slowly reducing the adrenaline in my bloodstream. I look a small disk from a device fitted onto my armguard- a recording of what I had witnessed- and regareded it briefly in the shimmering lights- both natural and manmade- of the night. Just what had I encountered? What had I proved exactly? I would suppose that I had had a small inkling, a seed of hope rapidly rooting into my heart, but not yet watered. No, I would send both my report and recoring to Tsunade before making my next move- and assumption.

Once back at the Inn (chosen specifically for both its discretion and its ample escape routes- should the need take me-), I had a Courier Ninja deliver both the report and the recording to Tsunade with the upmost urgency. Only the morning would reveal what I had thought I had uncovered myself. I returned to my room, and had shuffled to the bedroll, not bothering to unclothe myslef, my eyelids heavy with thought and plots. I fell asleep there, moving only one to retrieve a scrap of paper to write two words, ringing them in thick black ink.

**_Bloodline Limit??_**

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**_End of part 1_**

**_I'm the kind of person who's...well, Ok, basically I'm lazy.._**

**_I am working on part 2, but I'm not gonna get it done very fast if I don't think people like the first part. So...read and review, please people _**

_**Oh! and in part 2, we're going to see Yondaime, yup thought I'd slip that in...**_


	2. The Father of the Fox

**Discliamer****: I do not own ****Naruto****, characters, places, ****ect**

**Second part! You know, a few hours after I'd posted my first ****part,**** I got ready to go to bed thinking 'OK people might hate it. I might be an absolutely terrible writer, but if I got at least one person waiting for next part, that would be reason enough to continue' That same night I got one review (from Mangalover248 ) And I went to bed chuffed. Thank you. When I woke up the next morning to log onto MSN, like any decent ****technology junkie, I had 15 e-mails from people who had ****faved****, or had put the story onto their alerts. Thanks guys, hope I don't let you down p**

**Sunflowers and Tears**

**Naruto**

What is death? 'Cos after I fell, I really had to change my perspective. OK, so I had imagined ... like ... one giant towering gate, maybe a grim reaper or two standing guard. Booths- like the ones you get your tickets from at the cinema- lining the outside walls, waiting to hear out your sins and weigh them out against your good deeds. And in my imagination, there was a trapdoor beneath the place you stood- if your sins were heavier- you went down, down and down again, baby! Heh, funny how your mind creates basically a whole world new world in that half a second between life and death.

I was hanging –literally- in the air. One minute that bitch had pushed me over the edge- _literally_, as in _over the freaking cliff__- _and then everything...changed. No, not ticket booths and grim reapers, everything- the trees, water, me, the bitch, the sky _everything _sort of...inverted colours. I'll admit it, I was so scared right there. Everything had sort of frozen, her grim, determined smirk permanently plastered on that ugly mug. I found that I could move, that I was still the right colour at least, and that I could _climb back through the air_ and onto the cliff face again. Well, I couldn't leave her there when I had so much of the upper-hand. Yup, over she went. After walking for what seemed like weeks, I'd come to the strange conclusion that the world itself was bended weirdly- as if my situation wasn't hopeless enough- and that I could travel much more in those weeks (I would later find out that they weren't weeks at all) than I could in my 'normal' state. God, I was so freaked out- and tired. The geography of my surroundings had changed so drastically- now littered with waterfalls, lakes, rivers- that sort of thing. Occasionally I would come across some people walking, talking with one-another-frozen, also. But I was so tired, my eye lids closing of their own accord. The world wasn't growing darker. On the contrary, it seemed to return to the blue-skied one I'd known to love- mainly 'cos I'd known no other one. I was still unconscious when I was picked up.

**Sakura**

I was there when Lady Tsunade received Jiraiya's report. I guess it was pretty obvious I'd taken Naruto's death badly- medic-nin who happened to need something form the supply closet wouldn't be surprised to see a particular pink-haired shinobi curled into herself in the corner, clutching at an ever-familiar black headband. Because of incidents like this, the Hokage had taken to putting me to some work around her office. I think that was the hardest part of my ordeal- seeing my mentor having to smile, deal with foreign visitors-like everything was _normal_-- sort out alliances, deploy shinobi on their daily missions, day in, day out. One of these particular ninjas, a Jonnnin perhaps three years older than myself back then gave a peculiar and enquiring look at the young medic- nin slumped against the outside wall of the Hokage's office with vacant eyes, holding a scrap of black material close to her heart.

I remember thinking: **You** **got a girlfriend? ****Fiancé?**** How's she ****gonna**** look when you don't come back** **from your mission? How's she ****gonna**** cope?**

My lips never moved- I hadn't talked a lot since it all began. I was trapped- and no-one else could see- no-one could feel my pain. The shinobi moved away. Giving me more space? Telling the Hokage I was in one of my 'states' again, more like it.

**"Keep walking,"** I had hissed, directing my anger, frustration onto him. He didn't turn back.

**How's she ****gonna**** feel...?**

**"Sakura,"** My master's voice was stern, unforgiving. I could not understand then why she talked with me in that tone. I've come to understand it now- I was not the only one who had lost a beloved in the Shinobi way of life- Lady- Tsunade could not save bother her brother and lover. It was hard- worse than hard- almost unbearable to cope with, but that was the point. _Almost_. You came through it and you were stronger for it. She was Hokage. She had to deal with things like this every day of her life. Weaker Shinobi lost their lives. They lacked the Will of Fire. I thought I had understood that before.

And then I spoke, **"It's wrong. He had the Will of Fire. He- he has to become Hokage, he-"** I broke, right thereon the panelled floors of the Hokage's office. To me then, it wasn't just wrong, - it wasn't _fair_. Not any of it, not a single piece of it was right. Everything had been fine- perfect I might have admitted. True, Sasuke had left us some four years earlier, but we had each other, had Kakashi. We were healing...and then this. It was only when I'd stopped thinking altogether and dissolved into Lady-Tsunade's robes in a fit of hysteria that I realised I'd projected all of these thoughts into my voice.

Right there, I felt I could have died, just to escape from it all. To let it go. Maybe I'd see Naruto, or perhaps Kakashi was right after all. By that time I was prepared to believe him slightly, whether to humour my former Sensei, or even to give myself false hope. If he was proven wrong, I would have been tipped over the edge-no doubt I'd have taken my oven life (I was aware that Lady Tsunade had requested an ANBU to track my movements after this brakedown). I would have done it, I would have killed myself to be with him again if the investigations had proven Naruto's death. The fates, however, had a very different idea.

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**"Lady Tsunade! We've just received a report from Jiraiya,"** I was spaced out on the couch in the Hokage's office after my little breakdown. I'd gratefully accepted a sleeping draught from Shizune some two minutes previous, and I was experiencing a vicious headache before the effects took hold. My senses were fuzzy, someplace between dreaming and drowsiness...spacing out...

A scream. I took a moment to note dully somewhere in the back of my mind that it was a nice scream- God how my thoughts were reduced to academy vocabulary. Somewhere a sake bottle connected with the floor, spreading out the tinkering glassy sounds out of my vision.

That jabbered talking again- almost screaming again. Shouting for a messenger, _yes, it was urgent, yes she needed to contact __Kakashi-_

Spacing out..._expected...information...__Jiraiya_

_Naruto..._My vision began to fade then _...sighting__, alive...alive..._

My lids closing over heavy eyes

_Naruto__ is alive..._

**Wait for me.**

* * *

A building lay in shadows, its windows long sealed away to the outside, bar from an internal courtyard, and its light fuelled by harsh electric neon ones from an internal and independent power supply. The entrances and exits were sealed also, cutting the one complex from the world, a country in its own rights. A handful of people resided there, picked out specifically for their dedication and genius in medical ninjutsu some sixteen years ago. Since that time, none of these had left, nor had anyone else come into the building, bar an old sage who visited every two years or so. To anyone else outside, the inhabitants might have been dead. In truth, there purpose was to keep one Konohoa shinobi alive. 

The ninja in question slowly rolled himself down the perfectly level concrete walkway. Once he would have had to rely on the medic-nins who had kept him alive after that Night to move him around. But he had grown. He had healed, thanks to them albeit, and was quite independent in moving himself around both the hospital and the courtyard. Shadow. The outside was always in shadow due to the sharp ring of Cliffside circling the complex. (which, he reminded himself for the nth time, was why this location had been chosen) Protection. His protection, to keep him alive. From others, from himself and the sickness that was slowly ebbing away from his system after how many years...? Sixteen. Sixteen years. And he had counted each and every day.

A quick hopeful glance upwards- shadow. There had been one day- some three years previously- an hour or so where almost a quarter of the man-made courtyard had been bathed in a milky golden glow. Sunlight, due to the perfect weather conditions and angle of the sun at the height of the season. Or so his healers had told him. However, it had been Winter and the simple phenomenon had wilted to a weak, warm sort of colour and then back again to shadow. He'd always tanned very easily and this suited his complexion, his lively attitude. Without the sun, his skin had a pale eeriness to it, and his blonde hair hung loosely without encouragement.

He wheeled himself to the centre of his outside world, taking slow breaths to imprint fresh air in his memory once more. The small hospital had to carefully filter its air so that he himself would not fall sick while his immune system was venerable. Like he'd told them a hundred, no- a thousand times previously: He was stronger now, getting stronger still. He was almost ready, he was almost healed.

His eyes flicked down to the source of his drive- two carefully chosen Polaroids in his lap, creased and tattered after years of holding and praying, hoping wishing and loving. That Night he had thought he'd give his life and never again see his son's new face. Never could he imagine he would spent the following sixteen years in brutal agony, through both the treatment and the knowledge that he would not know when and if he would ever see that face again. It was the not knowing that pained him the most.

**"****Put it this way," **One over-motherly medic had told him when he'd first arrived, **"The healthier you get, the more chance you have of seeing your son,"**That very conversation had fuelled the next sixteen years, with a grim determination that the day would arrive when he would walk out of the hospital on his own two legs. To Konohoa and his son.

Clattering footfall roused him from his thoughts, stirring instead his memory. Had it been two years since his last visit already? "Arashi," The hand lay on his shoulder. Then a good hearty laugh from the standing man, "How have you been?"

**Kakashi**

Twelve years after That Night and my old sensei had hardly changed. Although he must have been in his late thirties back hen I first saw him again in his hospital, his face had lost none of its youthful energy. Although the suffering he had endured was also all too evident. Those eyes. When I look back now, his eyes had changed, hardened with pain he had not gained or experienced either when he was a shinobi (although he had never lost this title and I still held him as one- the greatest) nor when he was Hokage. I couldn't have imagined how it was for him to be locked in this hospital- one with an uncomfortable likeness to a prison, although he assured me later that the stay had been made comfortable with his company, when he was such a free spirit.

Yes, he was like his son. Not in physical features, anyone could have drawn up a conclusion of their relationship had they been seen side- by- side. No, their personalities were too much alike by half. From what I had gathered from Jiraiya, the Yondaime, my sensei had been a prodigy from his Acadamy days. He had- and still would be, if only more than a handful of people knew of his survival-, been popular- a hero nonetheless. The Third Ninja war was said to have only been won on Arashi's back. His back, and his abilities. Perhaps that is where he and his son differed. Naruto's history had been so much harder, so much of a struggle to just not be dragged down by the tide of hate directed at him from the villagers. Looking back, I could have helped him more than I had. I could have sympathised with him more. But...would that have made him a stronger person? I Didn't think so. Everything that Naruto had gained, his abilities, his ranking- hell, even his friends, he had earned through sheer hard work and determination. You had to admire him, he really could work his way up to anything. Even Hokage, which in itself, was a possibility that was strikingly genuine to the Jonnin now. Hell, Konohoa's Number One Unpredictable Ninja had now apparently cheated death itself. Which was why Lady Tsunade had us- team Naruto- meet Jiraiya at the hospital complex.

I had grinned at my old sensei- how the generation of student and sensei moved so fast!- and we had talked. When Jiraiya passed the mission draft to the sitting man, the latter had flicked through the pages feverishly, in complete disregard for the content of the words. I was wondering what the blonde could be trying to find- everything had been explained in the draft, starting form page one. Then, of course, he had reached the page relevant to his search: Naruto's most recent picture- the same one that had been used in his 'missing-nin' poster.

I had taken that one myself, when Naruto had passed his first mission as a Chunnin team leader. In the copy of the Polaroid, he stood at the forefront of his team (Hanuro Sakura, Aburame Shino and Akamichi Choji), his fists on the hips of his new green Chunnin vest. He had been proud; this was obvious from his mile- wide 'hell – or – high – water' grin and the absence of his hands behind his head- a sign I had come to associate him with nervousness or boredom. He had reason to be proud; only a week after he had made Chuunin, half a year previously, he had been chosen to lead that particular team. Sure, he was no Shikamaru, but there was precious few that could match to him anyway, but he had gained wisdom in his training, and that had been recognised by the Hokage in the form of giving making him team leader. He had led his team flawlessly. The mission was a success. Everyone had been happy. But Naruto was more than just that. It was a personal achievement, recognition, and one step closer to Hokage. He had grown, all right. And it was something his father was proud of to the point of lack of words, judging by the way he kept comparing the pictures on his lap and the one contained in the report.

And if Jiraiya had come to the right conclusion, Arashi was the only one to stop his son.

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**fingers die (this is the third time I've edited the whole chapter and written the author's notes- damn laptop is gonna get his...)**

**Okays! I added a little 3rd person angle to spicen things up a little there.**

**It took longer to write then I thought it would have. A word to the wise: Harvest Mood DS is VERY addictive **

**Next chapter: A little Akatsuki PoV methinks...and, lets see...oho! Who wants to see Yondaime get all ninja'd up agian? Damn right, he's big, he's bad and he's sure as hell bringing sexy back!**

**Remember: Read and review, people! I need to know what you guys think. Seriously- how long does it take to write a few words of your thoughts? Your -yes, YOU!- review is gonna get the next chapter done a hell ova lot faster ;)**


	3. Friendships and Fires

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****Naruto****, places, etc. **

**Part three**

**Okays, answers to some of your questions:**

**-****yes****, it looks like I'm scrapping the whole one-shot or two-shot thing. Though it won't be too long either, just with enough chapters as I feel right. I intend to finish this one properly- I'm enjoying myself doing it, it deserves it I think **

**-****Naru-Saku****- I haven't decided how much I'm going to develop that. But...It's going to be nigh impossible in the first chapters for the obvious ****reasons- as in ****Naruto's**** believed to be ****- so that would be impossible. And no necrophilia in my fan ****fic****, thank you very much p**

**You know the drill, people. Thanks for those who took their time to review- ****makes me feel special, so thanks for the kind words and support guys-in particular '****Kokuou**** no ****Shin'en****' and '****Gravenimage****' this time **

**Right now, as I'm writing this fore- word, (I do this before I actually write the next chapter to...warm me up as it were) I have almost 900 hits. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but I'm very proud of that. Thank you, guys.**

**---------------------------------------------------**

**Sunflowers and tears**

**Kismane**

Even for a group involved in such turmoil between countries and of such a wanted status, the Akatsuki really hadn't expected something like this. I suppose since we'd already sealed the other tailed demons, it was only a matter of time before we started out our hunt for the nine-tailed jinchuriki. Then again, on no account did we expect him to come to us.

As Pein, our leader was head of one of the battling factions in the hidden Rain village –the village which we also held our hideout- obviously, we spent a great deal of our time around that region as a whole. When we found him, it happened that Tobi (as the youngest and most inexperienced) was the only one left at the base whilst we fulfilled our business in the Land of Waves.

Upon our return we discovered the unconscious Leaf Ninja warm and obviously comfily asleep in the spare bed Tobi had prepared in the hide-out. Can you imagine! Had our newest member ever stopped to consider that it might have been a trap? That it might have been another enemy ninja parading as our quarry through the transformation jutsu before taking him into our base? Or else that the Konohoa ninja might have sacrificed the same boy himself in order to gain information on our organization before pulling him back out again? No. We hadn't been surprised that he hadn't, either.

Ah! How infuriated Pein had been upon our discovery- so much so that Tobi had taken shelter behind Zetsu, safe in the knowledge that the latter had a soft spot for him. The Uchiha, on the other hand, revealed his ability to become somewhat of an optimist as our leader began to cool by examining Naruto with upmost interest. I'll admit I had felt a fleeting second of panic- if Itatchi had killed the jinchuriki right then, our plans would have been impossible to achieve. He was vital to their fulfilment. Our leader, also, seemed to share my thoughts, as he shortly joined Itatchi's side over the resting Leaf Ninja.

For almost a lifetime it felt like, no-one had spoken, the silence in itself being almost deafening (Even Tobi, being the scolded 'culprit' in the scenario was forgotten for the sake of deciding the fate of Naruto). A temporary sleeping draught was administered to the boy via a UV drip taped onto the back of his hand whilst we had held our discussions. By the time we had reached a conclusion, although not an unanimous one, the sun had risen on the next day- day one of Naruto's disappearance.

We were well aware that Konohoa would be frantic in its search for the young ninja (or at least his corpse) with the intention of protecting the village's secrets. The same had been true for Itatchi when he had shed his Leaf Ninja status. Then again, they hadn't done a great deal to retrieve him, although we had realised that this was a whole different case. As a group, we saw that the fact a demon was involved gave the situation a whole different degree of seriousness.

At one point, Itatchi had attempted to probe into the boy's mind, to confirm whether or not he had indeed been sent as a spy, or in the case of the negative, discover how exactly he had come to be unconscious with no visible tracks or team-mates nearby not two miles from the Hidden Rain village. On the whole, the Uchiha found that he could explore as deeply as he would have liked without disrupting the Kyuubi's chakra and, ultimately, releasing the demon itself if he delved too far. This held no standing for us as we required a demon as powerful as the nine-tails to be pre-sealed inside its jinchuriki before the re-sealing ritual in which it would be removed safely. After hours of this mind examination, with the boy forcefully unconscious, Itachi had given us Akatsuki members his revelation.

**"I've found something interesting,"** He had announced with that same impassive face- an expression I could have easily seen him committing the massacre that ultimately caused him to leave his hidden village. What a leaving gift! Then again, I never could have seen Itatchi to be one to pick out a nice vase.

**"It would seem our little friend has an invaluable gift, a bloodline limit as it would happen,"** This was met with a number of outbursts- we had brushed with the blonde more times than was comfortable in battle and he had never expressed anything unusual other than an especially high chakra rate and the Kyuubi's abilities- never mind a bloodline limit. I had started to wonder just how powerful the boy had become since we had last battled with him.

**"If that's the case,"** Pein had stated, **"Then we will require a demonstration,"**His strange eyes, I had noted, never left Naruto at the time. I was obvious to my fellow members, too, that the Leaf ninja was not yet trusted with our leader. He required evidence of Naruto's disposition and his alliances. **"Prepare him under a heavy ****Genjutsu****. I'll want to see his bloodline limit when we move out tomorrow," **He had turned to leave, before adding **"And I want everyone to be especially careful when we move out- there's a certain ****Jiraiya**** I'd like to avoid if at all possible,"** And that was when we had first effectively accepted Naruto into Akatsuki.

**Kakashi**

I had fought alongside Arashi in the Third Ninja War, I had seen what he was capable of when he was pushed to his limits. How many times had he saved my life? Even when he was not able to save those of my team-mates? For sixteen years he had prepared himself to do the same for his son, after the sealing attempt on the Kyuubi had only half the success as expected- the reason the seal was now fading dangerously on Naruto. Then again, it had left the Yondaime with his life. To save those precious to him was his Ninja Way, the source of his Will of Fire.

Arashi, now donned in his shinobi uniform, was prepared to honour the commitment he made with his estranged son when he attempted to seal the Fox. I'm not normally the...sentimental type, due to my experiences in both the ANBU and my losses on the battle-field. However, I can honestly say it did my heart good to see my old Sensei alive and healthy again- a fact that had been kept out of all knowledge after That Night, bar a handful of trusted Shinobi (Jiraiya included) to avoid attempts on his lift whilst he was in that venerable state.

He was, in all reality, a shining hope and example to the people of Konohoa. He had been and he would have been again. It's only when I look back not that I can see how hard the 'death' of their fourth Hokage had hit them, drastically enough for the third to come out of his retirement to take his place.

**Perhaps his return will ****herald a new hope, ****a fresh era**, I remember thinking to myself with the man in question grilling me for details about his son that Jiraiya seemed to have missed out. Big, important things such as the last movie he saw at the cinema, or his favourite brand of toothpaste. I'm so sure**. And there's the whole ****Naruto**** thing... He's reacted well to the fact that his son's fallen into the hands of the ****Akatsuki****-if ****Jiraiya's**** sighting is legitimate. Then again...**I had stolen a glance at the man to my left, still jabbering on about all the things he had missed, and the things he would do once we had retrieved Naruto (as Arashi had decided to return to Konohoa), unaware of his former pupil's pang of jealousy.

Ashamed at this sudden urge of envy towards my own pupil and his relationship with my Sensei, I answered his questions with as much detail as humanly possible. **Arashi's**** waited sixteen years to see his son. To him, taking ****Naruto**** back would seem so easy. Well, maybe it will be for him, but we- as in ****Konohoa****- aren't as strong as we before he left.**

**He's not the replacement for my own father I lost. I shouldn't begrudge him his son.**

**Sakura**

I found myself, for the hundredth time, perhaps, walking to his monument. I had noted, with a deep detest, that a greater many of the villagers had started to walk with a new spring in their step, as if a shadow had been lifted from over them.

**"Ignorant,"** I had hissed form under my breath, wishing not to dampen the new happiness I'd found, already fragile as if it might shatter, revealing that the ninja on the disk had not been Naruto at all... As time had passed, however, the information had rooted into my shaken soul and kept me steady, confident in the knowledge that soon –within days perhaps!- he would return to the village, to be a team once again.

Not once did I think deeply on how we could possibly bring him back from the clutches of the Akatsuki, an impossibility re-enforced by the fact that he was the last piece in the puzzle of their world- domination.

No, I'd barely gotten over my grief of the blonde's 'death' and replaced it with joy and sheer determination- I wasn't going to ruin that with the realization that he might not return again, that the might...die- for real this time.

So I ended up at the monument again, reflecting, thinking, wishing and praying. For a while, I read some of the cards and scrolls left by his friends after the earth-shattering news (Hokage-Sama had been in the process of calling the rest of the 'rookie 9'and Gai's team from their missions to inform them of the new information that had come to light)

**_Naruto_**

**_What can I say? For years I've been unable to talk to you, just watch you from afar. _**

**_I'd write a poem, but I'm lost for words,_**

**_I'd say goodbye, but I can't speak right now._**

**_Just know that I'll love you forever, like the way you should have been for the good person that _**

**_you were. You deserved so much more and perhaps I didn't have the courage to do so while you _**

**_were alive. Just know...that you'll always be kept alive, deep in my heart like you could, should _**

**_have been._**

**_H_**

'H' could have only been from one person, whether that stood for 'Hyuuga' 'or Hinata', even someone who hadn't known the girl for very long would find it excruciatingly obvious who she had developed feelings towards. **One-sided feelings?**** Is there more to this than I'm seeing?** I had re-read the letter feverishly, not knowing myself, why this bothered me so much. '**Watched you from afar...deep in my heart like you should have been,'** No, she had admired him, she had had a crush on him, but had watched him from afar. She hadn't hade a move on my Naruto. I had exhaled without ever realizing I had been holding my breath. **So...what will she do when she knows ****Naruto's**** still alive, or...** I had swallowed harshly, the card crumpling in my ever-tightening fists. **When he returns...?** My mind turned numb with the possibilities of what could happen when my last team-mate returned to Konohoa. A superior sort of half smile, all knowing, crept onto my lips, cracked with crying through both traumatic and ecstatic tears. I had dropped the card, leaving it crumpled before its fellow neatly- stacked scrolls and letters.

I think it might have been then that it had really hit me- Naruto hadn't been that helpless, friendless gennin anymore. He had made friends- more than friends, apparently. If anything, competition.

And I was going to show him. I was going to prove to him that I was his closest friend, his precious person by helping to bring him back. Because he was my precious person and I had discovered my Will of Fire.

Two hours later I had left Tsunade-Sama's office, shouldering my heavy travel pack. My master let me leave without a word, but a thin smile playing on her lips. I think she had noticed how hard, determined my eyes had become. After loosing two loved ones, it did her good to see I was at least fighting for Naruto. There was no way I was letting a second team-mate go that easily.

_-----------------------------_

_Phew, I managed to finish this one off during an episode of 'House'- gotta love that dry humour- however, that means I had to watch the double-bill...and a CSI episode to boot. Summary: I am extremely tired while I'm editing this right now. _

_So...I dunno...tell me if theres any mistakes? Anything I can make better?_

_What do you want to see happen? I'm toying with the idea of a cliff-hanger, although that would be very easy for me to do, I'm not sure how you guys would feel about that. Opinions!_

_Read and Review, people, Read and Review, even if it's just something small...I'd rather see what you think about it than nothing at all_

_I'm not sure if anything ..like..major happened in this chapter, so, um, I promise to quicken the pace next time. Give me...oh, about a week, tops. I know I said this chapter would be done in a week, and I don't think it took me even four days, so fingers crossed XD _


	4. Of Porridge and Decisions

Okay, I'm babysitting, like right now, having lugged my incredibly heavy (although dearest) Laptop I've decided to christen 'MARLIN' and having extremely random thoughts whilst watching '_My __Family'_ , thus spawning the really really weird dream sequence about 800 words in. You have been warned.

God, I need Kerrang. Thank God they have Sky TV. Looks like I'm sorted : D

Wow- 1,700 hits! Not sure if that's good or bad, but I'm sure as hell proud of that .

Bloodline Limit: I suppose I'll reveal it in the next chapter, but i'll need to give it some more thought and make a decision.

And a big 'Thank You' to those who left lovely reviews-especially 'Kirimori', they all really made my day : )

**Sunflowers and Tears**

**Naruto**

I think for the week when I hadn't known any better, I was happy. I mean, I'd been eating properly (reason enough to be happy for me)- I had found the group to be pretty good to live with on the whole and they took care of me in a protective brotherly sort of way- hell, I'd even go as far to have said _maternal_. Of course, Tobi had been chosen to trail me around when we weren't training or they hadn't been testing my abilities. I hadn't had any problems with that- being my dumb old self I had miss-red observation for general interest and friendship. Then again, he had done an awful lot for me than was necessary- he made the most genuine effort to talk to me- maybe because there was less of an age-gap between us and his goofy, care- free attitude had suited my own back then.

I was taken to have regular examinations by Itatchi,(In which he would manipulate my memories with his Genjutsu) as I'd been 'fragile' after my sickness. Oh- the reason the Akatsuki was able to do these things with me without me being consciously aware:

I couldn't remember a damn thing.

I mean, OK it might seem weird that once I'd woken up in the Rain country, surrounded by Akatsuki members, I'd lost my memories, but it's only now I realise how damn _venerable _I'd been- I mean, I'd been out cold (something I strongly suspect they had a hand in) for hours- maybe even a day! They had messed with and blocked all of my memories, past thoughts, experiences- everything. I'm still amazed at how apt Itatchi had been with it- as in: to not get rid of all my jutsu and everything. After all, you can only learn something like that with a whole lot of effort and a bucket- load of experience. Looking back, I think that might have been what he was checking for- that I hadn't made a connection between my abilities and my memories- perhaps how I acquired the particular jutsu in Konohoa. And of course, that would have completely ruined their whole '_you've been a member_ _since a baby- oh dear looks like you got sick and got amnesia_' charade. I can't believe I was ever that dumb to believe them. Then again, what was I supposed to think? It was all I could do to believe them- I literally had _nothing _else.

Training. Man, training with the Akatsuki was _hard_! I doesn't take long to do the math- six elite jonnin+ missing- nin with a combination of bloodline limits and specific Hidden Village abilities verses one leaf (although I was oblivious to this fact) newly-passed Chuunin. Each day I went back to the hide- out with more bruises, cuts and blood loss than the previous. ("**Building your strength back up**," they had told me) I have to say, however, they knew what they were doing with the rigorous training; I also came back stronger than the day before. Then again, they weren't doing it out of the good of their heart- they were building a soldier with a specific purpose. I was a puppet, one with an insatiable apatite a mouth the size of an obese whale, but I was a toy nonetheless. I was to defeat the enemies of the Akatsuki like any loyal member- certain Konohoa ninja who had been trailing the group's movements for the past few months. Freshly 'treated' oblivious to any ulterior motives, of course it made sense to me: if you're against the Akatsuki, you gotta die. No 'if's', no 'buts', bye-bye, buddy, down you go. So of course it had never occurred to me that the only reason I had been kept alive- as in '_not floating lifelessly above a weird chained statue with the __Kyuubi__ being ripped out of all the openings in my head'_ was so that I could take out some of their garbage for them before the did the 'afore said thing.

Ignorance is bliss.

I think maybe a week after I began staying with the Akatsuki, I had a certain dream, one which I'd find out to be reoccurring and...slightly disturbing. Ok, so at first I would be all floaty and kind of spaced out (as most of my dreams would start), and all of a sudden I would be at a breakfast table, morning light filtering in through an unfamiliar window of an unfamiliar kitchen. Pretty ordinary so far? I was a son of a bitch. No, seriously- a blood- hound in a dress, sitting opposite me and telling me to eat up my porridge. I could see the loose folds of skin around the dog's face, swinging around and slopping into its (her?) own porridge. Gross.

**"Eat your porridge,"**

The words were spoken without its lips ever moving.

**"Eat your porridge before your father gets back, or you'll be sorry,"** As if on cue, the 'father' stumbled into this bizarre little scene. As it happened, in a navy pinstripe suit complete with white pencil tie and ballroom- like polished shoes. A black expensive-looking pipe was propped in his mouth, held rather badly due to the fox's lack of either incisors or molars. I suppose if it hadn't been a dream, I. Would. Have. Freaked. No doubt about it- giant golden gated held only by a piece of paper in the deepest crevices of my mind, I could have dealed with. The Kyuubi himself in a pinstripe suit which looked at home in the 20's and sucking on a pipe- which I had noted subconsciously wasn't even _lit__-_ no. I think I might have tried to physically run, as the sheets were unusually twisted when I woke up again, and in the dream I stood to leave, but not before the 'father' said,

**"Eat your porridge, son,"**

The vision swirled and distorted weirdly again, until I could only make out the pipe, hovering menacingly until I was afraid it might have attacked me. The Demon Fox's place was then taken by the one giant toad that I should have recognised in my oh- so- normal- life as a shinobi. But of course, the one fact I couldn't forget was that I had amnesia.

Gamabunta, I had a moment, I think, when I had felt so relieved to see that particular toad (I was also careful as to not refer to his as a frog) in the ever-thickening instability of my dream. I had also been surprised to find I could both recognise and name the particular Boss Toad without physically (or mentally, as technically this had been a dream) seeing him face. No, instead I was standing just behind his shoulder blades, my legs already braced to counter the motion when the toad would start moving. How many times had I ridden on Gamabunta like this? It would seem also that back then, subconsciously, I was starting to think the same thing, to question. After the madness and shock of how my dream had started out (something I still take to question my sanity, as do my friends take joy in doing so), in that one moment, everything had seemed...right. I hadn't been sure if I'd ever felt home sickness before, yet I was feeling something sickly familiar to the theory of that feeling.

The Hidden Village lay in the distance, just above the skyline and large enough for me to read the 'fire' Kanji on the Hokage Tower. I knew those things, and I knew I wasn't supposed to know those things. It was so _wrong_; not only the fact that I was starting to recognise- hell, even _remember_ things I had supposedly never seen before, but that the Village had been dusted with smouldering ashes and a steady stream of evacuating civilians. Looking down, I could make out the 20-man deep front line of shinobi, surrounding Gamabunta in a human arch through the smoky night air.

I also wasn't alone. The torso and body of a man appeared before me, (It's now that I realise he's been there through my examination of the surroundings- I had not noticed him during my feverish recognition of Konohoa) his shoulder level to my face and his own too high for me to see.

An arm draped in white Hokage cloth reached round carefully, ever so slowly as to not frighten me, to the back of my neck, urging me closer to him.

The strange sequence of my dream was broken by the unnatural, menacingly desperate call of the monster Kyuubi behind the tall shinobi's back. As if oblivious, the man had made no movement to dodge the demon's attack, and thus fell from the Toad Boss' back, and out of our awkward embrace.

When the morning ha finally come and I had stirred form my subconscious ravine, I had taken ten minutes to hide my discoveries, my beginning of understanding into a deep room in my mind, my person, behind the golden gates even (something Kyyubi had allowed without penalty, as although I was oblivious then, he had no intention to be harnessed by the Akatsuki for their own gain). The threads of memory which had been laid bare during my sleep now lay buried within myself, running deep and hidden from even Itatchi.

I wasn't sure what place the Akatsuki had in my past- and present- dealings, but I had found myself battling the decision to tell my fellow members of my dream.

I had dressed and thrown the thick black cloud patterned cloak over my shoulders, my thoughts lying like a heavy blanket also.

**Jiraiya**

The death rate of both Chuunin and Gennin had been uncommonly high that year- even when Naruto's situation hadn't been taken not account and the Hokage, Tsunade had to take an overview of mission classification, and appointing higher level shinobi to something a Chuunin or higher Gennin might have done. The quality of each individual also had to have been improved, much like the Hidden Sand Village, although not because of military cuts; the world was betting a dangerous place. True, each generation must surpass the previous, but this law also made for stronger enemies and a reason for our shinobi to become greater and stronger.

So on no account would I have let Sakura join us in Team Naruto and snatch the blonde back from his Akatsuki captors. There was simply too much risk in the situation- Konohoa couldn't afford its young shinobi to be reckless, especially in a situation involving an S- rank terrorist group and a nine-tailed demon in question- the same demon the village's strongest Hokage had almost lost his life in fighting. Even then, it has been all he could do to seal the demon inside of a human vessel, a process which, after all, hadn't been one hundred per cent successful.

"**No,"** I had told her as sternly as my aging voice would have permitted. That look she gave me! I swear- it was like a second Tsunade. She'd barely stepped through the courtyard after two days of travelling, the bags under her eyes heavier than those on her shoulders and a look on her young face that could have curdled milk at thirty paces.

**"Give me one good reason why I-****" **She had demanded instantly. Perhaps it was because she hadn't trained under me, such as team mate, she did not know that as a tem leader and sensei, I demanded my team's upmost skill and concentration during missions and exercises. Over fifty years of living as a shinobi also holds the responsibility of your pupils' lives. After all, it's what you teach them as a sensei that keeps them alive on the battlefield.

**"I'll give you three,"** I had started with such provocation that she had taken a step backward (and I suspected on the verge of tears again,)

**"You're only ****Chuunin****- Team ****Naruto**** consists- and will only consist- of ****Jonnnin**** or higher Rank. This is an S- class infiltrate and retrieval mission, Sakura, we can't afford to have anyone be venerable or hold us back. **

**We can't afford to have too many people in the party, either. The key to this mission is going to be stealth. I'm sorry, but we don't need another person. **

**And also,"** I had made my face deadly serious, as to portray the reality of the situation to Tsunade's student, but I believe the quirk in my mouth betrayed a small smirk, something Sakura took (as it was intended to myself, something I found entertaining)as a tease directed towards her preference towards Naruto.

**"You're too emotional right now,"**

I had heard Kiba physically take in a breath behind me, before retreating back to the corner of the courtyard which held Yamato, Arashi and the ANBU members.

**"Too...emotional..."** She echoed my words, dripping with the Medic-Nin's own special brew of venom. To this day, I can still feel those words reverberate in the air, like the pressure before a storm, or a valve that had been about to blow. Either way, it was not going to be pretty.

**Tsunade**

It was only after I had dismissed Sakura to join Team Naruto that I had started to question my own judgement. Perhaps the feeling of relief and wonderment that Naruto was truly alive had clouded my sight of the situation. In truth, she was very young still- she had so much potential- even back then- and I could see her becoming one of the greatest of Shinibi. Perhaps –ha- even better than her old master. It would take time though, and this was the one factor that I was constantly reminded of- I would not be around forever, because, despite my youthful image, I was nearing my late sixties. It was now my duty to entrust Sakura with the training she would need when I was gone. After all, t was almost unheard of for a Hokage to die peacefully in her bedside. No, it was almost a given that they die in battle, to protect the honour of the village and its people.

However, it was also the duty of a shinobi to do the dame for the village and the Hokage.

I found myself on the top most floor of the Hokage tower, the roof of the building over- looking the Hokage monument.

**Naruto****, will I live to see your face on the ****Hokage**** Mountain? Is this old bag enough to protect you and Sakura, or will she be the one to bring you back, time and time again?** I had thought, before laughing roughly to myself. I was the Hokage. And I would die for my people if need be, but I also had to trust them to make the right decisions and actions after me. And I had to trust Team Naruto to bring back Konohoa's Number One Unpredictable Ninja.

--------------------------------------------

Having read Naruto Manga 367, I'm not going to changes the Yondaime's name in my fan fic. He's Arashi in this and always will, just giving everyone a heads up there

Yup, if you've been following me through the chapters, you'll know the drill by now: Read and review if you like. Anything need improving? Ideas, opinions?

Now, chapter 5 ...I think...less of Naruto's point of view – we seem to be having an awful lot of that lately...I'm not sure when exactly I'm going to sum everything up- it's not like I've planned the chapters or anything, but I can feel it coming to a natural close in maybe two or three chapters from now. Also, I'm toying with the idea of an epilogue and I think I know what I want to do with it...

Remember: your review and opinions, ideas, etc, is gonna get the next chapter done faster


	5. Confrontation with Konohoa!

**If you consider this particular chapter to be posted (and written, as a matter of fact,) late, I'm deeply sorry. Stuff which I'm not going to divulge that I didn't think bothered me so much seems to have had more of an affect on me as I'd have thought. God I feel so sick of it all, I really don't feel like doing much, so sorry ****If**** the chapter's up a little late.**

**Thank you for the reviews****, a****lthough**** I was rather ticked off for a bit...you know who you are...**

**Big thanks to '****Kirimori****'- and '****IronicEnding****' I really didn't deserve those lovely reviews****, these coupled with 'Champagne, Cocaine and Strawberries' by TAT have gotten me through this chapter at least, I highly recommend that song for when you're feeling ****depressed,**

**'You can like them, you can love them, you can eat them but you can't beat them, nah ****nah****nah****, nah ****nah****, Strawberries...' Ah such a summer- y song about ****the fast life :)**

**Sunflowers and Tears**

**Chapter 5**

Time passed at the complex much as it always had, silently and unobserved by the rest of the world. The black-out blinds fitted at certain viewing points and windows as a precaution proved unnecessary on the night its visitors moved away, as the harsh neon lights had been extinguished some three hours before the fall of darkness. For sixteen years, the hospital which had been a house of hushed activity and forbidden medical ninjutsu- although secretly in the very bowls of the infirmary, had fallen silent, another victim to the ever- changing tide of ninja warfare. As a shrine of so much symbolic of life, it would have seemed that even buildings such as this have an expiration date. However it had served its purpose finely, or so a certain blonde ninja had felt as he left had left the place for the first- and last- time he would ever do so. In four days time it would be demolished and every brick – every solid evidence it had ever existed removed- and the only thing taken from it, two small Polaroids of a small fair-haired boy.

As the shadows fell once more over the now vacant building, eight human shapes materialized from the darkened walls and flitted away as if they had never been. Eight elite trained ninja for the one specific purpose of bringing back a certain Knucklehead Ninja.

**Pein**

The boy had improved greatly as a consequence of our training- that much evident. Where as once he had been reluctant to cause harm to the other Akatsuki members during exercises, he had responded well as the week had progressed, eventually taking a complete disregard to others' injury and fatigue during their fights, though they were his 'team mates'. This was vital for the confrontation with Konohoa- I had needed sufficient evidence that his memories would not have been stirred by his former friends and teachers, who had believed him to have been taken forcibly (a theory I had shared with the others to some degree of accuracy) and which Itachi had provided me with as he continued his mind probes. The boy would not remember a thing about his past. How many times had he ensured me of this? After all, I was the Akatsuki leader, and I had expected to reap the rewards of my years of planning to capture all nine Tailed Deamons. Only after 'Operation Konohoa' had been executed successfully, would I finally find myself in the correct situation to do so.

Of course, it had not only been our training (although training through six S- ranked missing- nin was rather incomparable to any other sort of training- especially by taking into account how much the blonde had progressed) that had caused the boy so much success – as Itatchi had told me, he had, against possibility, came into his Blood- line Limit. At first I thought that Itatchi might have been mistaken-I had argued greatly against the case in the first few hours- and he had told me calmly that there _was_ no mistaking it.

**"Besides,"** He had stated so tranquilly to the point it was very nearly a drawl, **"How else would you explain his sudden appearance in the Rain Country?"** I had said nothing, besides attempting, in vain, to burn holes in his face with my glare.

**"This if a very specific '****Kekkei****Genkai****'****, and one which scarcely has been heard of, never mind witnessed, only flickering in and out of history, so dilute in family lines."**

**"But ****Uzumaki****Naruto**** does not belong to any clan in ****Konohoa****- I believe even his heritage is vague to the point of-" **I had countered with ferocity, intimidated by that fact that the Uchiha had more knowledge of Naruto than I had.

**"That is why we can safely draw up the conclusion of ****Naruto's**** father. Because this Blood- line Limit has both appeared and disappeared in so many different countries, due to the fact of immigration, war and places where the family tree has branched,**** it was pure co-incidence ****Konohoa**** had produced the one most apt with the technique, the one most likely to pass on his genes to his offspring."**

**"But who ****cou****-" **I was inevitably cut off again, and rapidly loosing grip of both my pride and temper.

**"Think on it, did the most celebrated and talented ****shinobi**** the Fire country has ever produced become ****Hokage**** on unpredictable- random, some might say- talent from such a young age? No matter how talented he might have been, which is evident even without the Blood- Line Limit, true power comes within filtered and refined heritage."**

And there was that proclaimed Sharingan, even for the slightest of a moment. How arrogant had he became compared to the first time he had set foot in the Akatsuki? **No matter**, I had thought, **I'll pull him up about it later. For now I need more intelligence on this '****Kekkei****Genkai****' of ****Naruto's" **And so he had continued. **"The fourth ****Hokage****,"**

**"****Yes, p****erhaps i****f**** they had kept such strict clan formation, such as the ****Uchiha****, or the ****Hyuuga**** had, the '****Uzumaki****' clan would have dominated ****Konohoa**** as the most powerful and respected. In my opinion, that would have been unfortunate and- ah- impossible now to say the least once we have succeeded in our plans."**

**"Tell me more about this actual ****Kekkei ****Genkai**** then, seeing as a demonstration seems to unavailable now,"**

**"Perhaps because this had been the first time he has- unwillingly- used the 'Second Eye', and most likely due to the factor he has received nil training for his Blood- line Limit, I would say**** it**** will take around a week for him to recover ****the ability. True power, as they say, does not come without sacrifice. In this respect meaning that it he will- ****- had to wait around a week after he had used the ability to use it again- it puts so much strain on the eyes and body as a whole.**

**From his past and the memories of the time he arrived in the Rain Country, I can draw the conclusion that the technique gives the user the ability to move with such speeds it puts them in an immediate advantage- countered only with another user. The appearance of a second iris, white in- between the original and pupil not only gives claim to the name 'Second Eye', but only ****distorts the colours and perspective of the user's view point. Because he had no previous experience of using the 'Second Eye', ****Naruto**** had unwittingly travelled from ****Konohagakure**** to ****Amegakure**** within a few minutes- a journey which would have, under normal circumstances, taken two days on foot. However, as I have said, power does not come without a sacrifice, and it leaves the user under severe exhaustion and extreme venerability after use. Less than two minutes also seems to bee the limit to which it can be used."**

**"****Hn****, even with that price, it seems a very potent technique," **I had wondered aloud before giving out a short bark- like laugh, "**It's ****just a shame we will have to end this happy little family line when we extract the ****Kyuubi****,"**

**"There is a way we can keep this ability even after the extraction of ****Kyuubi****Tobi**** is evidence of this, ****I**** would think,"**

I had laughed again. **"Looks like it it's time to get rid of some unwelcome friends,"**

**Kiba**

I had taken a moment when we had stopped at the Boarder of the Fire country to resume tracking, to take in the reality of the situation- true, Naruto was alive but now we had the appearance of the Akatsuki to deal with. One way or another to me, Naruto's outcome didn't look so bright.

Heh, always the optimist.

I mean, there had been a high probability that, even then, he was dead. How long had he been missing? A week? More? I hadn't been there when the Akatsuki had attempted to extract the Shukaku from Gaara, but I had heard first hand accounts from Sakura- and Naruto himself- of the ordeal the Kazekage had endured, before his inevitable death, from which he had been revived. Thinking back to then, I don't think Naruto had been too fazed about the extraction of the demons after Gaara had been returned safely- as if it would never happen to him. God, now naive he had been, how...happy- go- lucky.

Then again, I could see that same optimistic expression in Arashi, his apparent father. Hell, he had been through so much already, it would seem as though retrieving Naruto back from the Akatsuki would have been simply the last step to his return to Konohoa.

Of course, Jiraiya had taken control of the whole situation, being a Legendary Sannin and all, it also helped that he had the most battle experience and had been the strongest of our group (although I was somewhat compromised on the topic due to some of the storied I had heard of Arashi).

Jiraiya had decided that we were to travel in a two- group formation. The first group had been dubbed the 'First Offense' group, due tot he fact their duty had been to engage the enemy and bare the front of their attack. This group had consisted of Kakashi, for his Sharingan eye, ANBU experience and his tactical out – look. Jiraiya, because of his invaluable battle experience, powerful use of summoning and the fact that he had been a Legendary Sannin and, at one point, a candidate for Hokage. Without protest, Arashi had also been enlisted into 'First Offense' not because of his capabilities in the battlefield (although these contributed greatly), but for his 'Second Sight' eyes. An ability, Jiraiya had informed the group, that was something of a Blood- Line Limit.

The second group had been labelled- rather unceremoniously- "Back- up and medical", and it did just that, despite the unimpressive name. That group had been composed of myself, as back- up and tracking abilities unique to my own clan, Yamato for back- up attack and his abilities to suppress the Kyuubi's chakra, should Naruto be brought into the fight that would inevitably follow.

Both Sakura and the other experienced Medic-nin, whose name I had yet to learn, had been charged with the duty of keeping the group alive (Sakura would also be brought in to fight if the tide had turned against us- for her inhuman strength and chakra control was invaluable to both teams).

**Naruto**

We had moved form the rain country that night. My 'training' had officially brought me up to date of my expected talents (as if little more than a week's training would make me a S- ranked missing nin to rival my peers- a revelation which I did not wish to divulge with said people).

Naturally, I'd known where we were heading- to the Konohoa country boarder. I had to keep remind myself to take precautions against blurting (something which happened unfortunately too often back in Konohoa) anything that would associate my history or relationship with the Fire country. It would seem as though I had been successful, too- no- one had doubted my alliances despite Itachi's mind searches – either that or the Uchiha had been losing his touch. Somehow, I doubted the second theory- man I was getting good at this game. Then again, I also suspected the Kyuubi had a calculated hand in this new- found wit and ability to hide my memories from the brunette Akatsuki member; after all I had hidden them behind the seal, somewhere I had not been able to go before without the Fox temporarily taking over my body as a consequence.

You know, I would have even been thankful to the demon if it hadn't been him who had put me in this dire situation to begin with. I remember thinking, as the ever- familiar growing trees swam past at some speed as we travelled, **"If I come out of this, I'll have one hell of a Blood- Line limit**. **Ha! I can't wait to show it to****Neji****- by what I've heard from ****Akatsuki**** and experienced ****myself,**** it'll totally blow his ****Byakkugan**** out of the water!"**

Unfortunately, the likelihood of ever showing Neji- or for that matter seeing any of my friends back in Konohoa had suddenly became very unrealistic, as the rest of my black cloaked companions had stopped mid- jump.

**"Let's drop in on the happy campers, what say you, ****Naruto****?"**

**"****Hai****, I'm interested to see the people who've caused us so much trouble," **I had been careful to keep my voice even and unaffected by the thought of attacking my comrades.

**Sakura**

It was like the journey to a theme- park (Even I had visited my fair share in my youth), that childish sickly excited feeling that pooled in your stomach whether from that second packet of chocolate, the pure and un tainted thrill of childhood expectations, or the fact that you were nervously worrying that the trip would not live up to your expectations. Not much had changed form those trips I could remember, except that the life of a young and talented ninja hung undecidedly on the edge of a knife and we had been plotting the very way to retrieve him from his would- be murderers.

**"So...the plan is that we have no plan?"** Kiba had asked, in an almost perfect imitation (whether intentional or not) of Naruto's sweet kind of dubness.

**"We need to get closer, ****Kiba****. I have my sources, but we need more intelligence if we're to ****re- take ****Naruto**** successfully and smoothly. We can't afford a messy battle," **The self- imposed commander had replied, basking in all his fifty- odd years of living with the luxury of shooting down younger shinobi further below him in the rankings.

**"Damn blonde better be grateful when he gets back, is all I say,"** Came the grumbled, yet perfectly audible reply.

**"You're impossible, ****Kiba****,"** And I had managed a small smile at the thought of my team mate's return. It had been good to think of returning to normal- it your can label the life of a shinobi such a thing. **Hell, i****f we manage to get him back, I'm not going to hit him****- I'm sure that'****s something he could do without, **I had thought, before being do rudely interrupted.

Seven pairs of Fire shinobi eyes turned in union to the tree boughs some three metres above our heads and the seven black clad Akatsuki members perched delicately on foliage, our fire throwing dancing, dangerous shadows over their faces.

I stared for the longest time- hell, we all had, simply stared down our unwelcome- and sure as a toaster in hell unexpected 'guests'. My eyes hadn't scanned the faces feverishly, analyzing possible tactics and advantage possibilities as I had expected I would have. No, instead they had locked onto the fore- ninja, a blond and impossibly familiar sixteen year old.

**"Playtime, ay, ****Tobi****?"**

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Might be considered a little short, so I'll promise now that next chapter will be longer

Can you feel the end coming? Oh I have some ideas as to how to deal with this, I'll have to play it out a bit before I'm happy with it.

Despite how many chapters it takes to finish this fic now (1-2 chapters, tops) I want to try my hand at an epilogue, some years later

If you liked this fic, or think I can improve it any way, or want to share your opinions on this chapter- you know where to click!

The more reviews I recieve, the faster I _will_ write the next chapter!


	6. Jinchuriki: a Human Sacrafice

**Sunflowers and Tears**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****Naruto**** characters, placers, etc.**

**_"Characters should drive the story forward and the plot should drive the characters. If your heroes win, it should not be without a price"-_ **Michael Carrol

**Chapter 6: Jinchuriki: a Human Sacrafice**

It was with impatience and irritation that Sakura approached the crouching shinobi in the sunflower fields. Her face had long lost its energetic and determined design, her patience wearing as thin as the crust of saffron sun still visible, although swooping dangerously, over the heads of the summer flowers. By tying her hair back for the past year or so, sixteen year old Sakura had found a new annoyance that was usually held by constantly spitting out hair: one NarutoUzumakiDuring the time when his and her own training were at a critical stage, she could barely find the time (or patience) to seek him out and decidedly spend time with the goofy blonde. Regardless, she'd made the time for him now and it was now that he'd decided to make himself practically invisible in the crowded streets of Konohoa

**_Typical!_**

How long had she tracked, scanned and scoured for him throughout the lengthening searing day?

**_Typical, just simply typical of Konohoa's number one unpredictable nin-_**

**"Ah! Sakura!"** The brunette shinobi rose and turned with such speed and relish that the said ninja fell against his canine team- mate, also relaxing amongst the flower fields. As he picked himself up, a flushed, flustered glow entered the boy's face and he picked himself up, sweeping away the bright broken petals.

**"I, uh I didn't expect you to be- I mean it's good to see you!"** the pink haired medic nin shook her head, almost trying to deny the fact she was thinking whilst laughing quietly.

**"You're nearly as bad as Naruto," **To this the boy leapt up with such energy - to which Sakura strongly suspected he gained at least five feet in the air- to meet Sakura's eye level. As it happened, he was a good few inches taller, so the affect appeared- at least to the female of the two- slightly intimidating.

**"No way! You're comparing me to that kid?"** Her eyes hardened a little at the comment, leaving Kiba to question whether he really should belittle her only remaining team- mate and –best friend?- in front of her face

**"Kid?**** Look who's calling who a kid! He'll be seventeen in just under four month's time- he's older than you I'll bet!" _God, have I picked up Tsunade Sensei's gambling habits already?_**

Kiba, noticing that she was smiling whilst questioning his judgement, grinned also and pressed further.

**"Ah! But I'm already a man, see here?"** He gave a rough gesture to the long red fang indications scored down both of his cheeks.He moved a step closer.** "Age doesn't really matter when you're in a clan- your achievements and perseverance marks when and –if- you become a man at all!"** Proudly, and with much relish,he jerked his thumb at his leather- clad chest.** "I'm a man, and proven of that,"**

The brunette seemed to miss- place- whether purposefully or not- the sarcastically challenging look sneaking over the female's face.

**"Now, Naruto- jeez that dobe wouldn't be a man in-a-a...well I don't think he'll ever grow up!"** The Inzuka gave a violent laugh so alike that echoed by Akamaru that it caused Sakura to wonder who had initiated it first. **"I really have to wonder what you see in him, girl,"** His face became serious again as he shifted onto his left booted foot, glancing lazily at the broken yellow bodies he'd crushed in the process. Sakura, in stark comparison, seemed to gain a glacial composure both by her carefully smooth expression and the less than friendly thoughts her inner self was so helpfully- and welcomingly- suggesting.

_**He...did not...just ...call me... 'GIRL'**_

**"Kiba,"** Her voice was restricted to the point of a low growl, usually reserved for the blonde jinchuriki

**"Tell you what, Sakura-chan,"** He mused playfully, his voice dancing,** "I'll admit Naruto's more of a man than me if you'll go on a date with me,"** He was a breath's width away now.

**"Kiba Kiba Kiba,"** She toyed before planting a peck on his forehead- not what he had been hoping for! **"You're too serious."** Sheturned to leave to continue her village- wide search for her remaining team- mate,** "He's more of a man than you because he's going to be Hokage, you'll see. He's not going to die until he achieves that. But thanks for the offer, anyway,"**

**"That Naruto..."** Kiba mused, smiling once he was alone again, **"I wonder just how he does it...?"**

**Kisame**

If I could have re- thought the situation right there, I still wouldn't have thought anything was wrong. After everything that we as a group had been hauled through- firstly our very unexpected guest, and even then the whole vigorous and thorough training regime we'd had to endure for the boy, nothing had gone wrong. We'd planned it that way, everything that had happened concerning the boy ever from the moment he had come into our possession in Rain country had been under our control, our scrutiny. I wouldn't have thought anything could have askew with the boy- I had held faith in the Uchiha in out party to keep the blonde in check- Hell, everyone did, even Pein (although with much scrutiny and resentment as once again he had taken a backseat to the brunette)

As expected, we had received intelligence on the Konohoa Team's movement out of the Fire Country and nearing the boarder closest to the Rain Country. Apparently they had camped some three miles from the boarder itself, but close enough to have been counted as a threat, if Pein's diplomatic status as the equivalent of Kage of the Rain Country had counted for anything. But of course, there was bigger matters at hand to be considered than the mere military safety of one country- there was a demon involved. And Kyuubi, the strongest of the Tailed Beasts, nonetheless. I really had been such unimaginable fortune that had brought the young jinchuriki into the Akatsuki's hands. Such good luck that, perhaps, we should have foreseen the imminent downfall and have been more cautious.

**"When ****we engage the enemy, you Konan,****Tobi ****Zets****u**** and ****myself**** are to retreat back into Rain Country. This is as far as we will take you- there is no need for the whole of ****Akatsuki**** to battle Team ****Konohoa****. After all, they are carrying with them two ****Chunnin****, two low level ANBU and a certain ****Kakashi**** who should not have forgotten ****Itachi's ****Mangekyo ****Sharingan**** before too long."**

This had achieved a few mutterings of quietly attempted laughter form the others; it was no overlooked by our leader that both Itachi and Naruto had still retained their hard, serious face.

**"****Jiraiya**** He's a 'Legendary ****Sannin****'. Is he not a problem?****" **However incredibly respected our only female member had been to the others, her comment did not go without speculation from our revered leader.

**"Do you not think ****Itatchi**** and ****Kisame**** will be able to deal ****with these little pests? You forget hat thy- we all are S- ranked missing Nin. You also may have misplaced the fact that they will have ****Naruto**** with them."**

I saw that he had not convinced her fully, but had planted a seed of confidence and reassurance in her heart past the troubled sombre smile.

**"I think," He had turned to the youngest of our group, "That we are all eager to witness this historic ****Kekkei****Genkai****. You are confident, ****Naruto****?"**

**"****Oh**** yeah, I can't wait to test it out- after all that training**** it had better be worth it- I can't remember how it felt to use it before I got sick," **

There had been nothing unorthodox about Naruto's reply- the 'you got sick story' was the lie we had pumped into him to excuse his lack of memory and recollection of either Blood- Line Limit abilities or jutsu, hence the vigorous training needed to re- acquaint him with his fighting style. I have to say, even without our training, Naruto's particular fashion of fighting- the brute strength and sheer number of clones used in the most imaginatively co-ordinated way coupled with his Rasengan jutsus had made for a pretty fierce contender. I found myself, whilst training with the young Jinchuriki that he was just that- a 'Jinchuriki', one which would find himself in quite the predicament once he had finished off Team Konohoa for us. Our goal had been so close, it was easy to (and I, myself, had almost done so on a few occasions with harsh consequences) forget that the very ninja who would allow us to fulfil our desires knew nothing of the bleak future we had laid out for him. For us to succeed, Naruto had to die.

But not before taking out the garbage beforehand.

**Kakashi**

It had...happened so fast. Had they moved by stealth and not have engaged us head- on, I don't think we would have been in as good as shape as it happened we were. And we weren't holding our own very well to begin with.

The ANBU were the first to be taken out- apparently, the Akatsuki had organized themselves into two groups- the ones known as Konan, Pein, Zetsu and Tobi had retreated back into the Rain Country whilst Itachi, Kisame and our very own Naruto were left to deal with us. We had no time to think or even grasp this piece of information, however, as the Water country missing- nin fell upon the two unsuspecting Konohoa Ninja. Almost as a counter, and whilst working on instinct rather than their superiors' orders (who had yet to give any), the two youngest shinobi of our group made for Kisame, Sakura skidding and hurling herself at the Akatsuki member's legs whilst releasing the pressured chakra to envelop his legs within the earth as Kiba darted in from her left, managing to catch only his enemy's right hand in the process.

Naturally, I had been worried-more than that; words cannot describe how sick I had felt at that moment-that all too familiar Sharningan, the sick oddity as it mutated into its Mangekyo form, spinning once before resting fixatedly on my team- mates. There had been no time- no time and no plan, a recipe of defeat to any shinobi foolish enough to have himself caught in such a scenario. I thought of Naruto-how we had failed him before our rescue mission had even begun. How Arashi would never, despite the promises, decisions and plots, see his son's face.

**Itachi**

"There is no running this time, Kakashi. We have a need to dispose of this particular party. And 'dispose'" I had raised my right hand, the index finger pointed neatly- threateninglyupwards, "Is what I had in mind to do," For a moment I had toyed with the possibilities of my situation- I had been spoiled for choice, and not for the first time in my life. My first decision- should I attempt my favoured Kekkei Gankai on the Copy- Ninja as a beloved reminder of our past battles, or take a chance on the new- comer, a face hauntingly familiar to me, though the nearest I could place his features was to those of Naruto's. Perhaps there was some relation.

**"I am**** very sorry. I have not had the ...ah, pleasure to meet your acquaintance. It is a policy of mine to properly introduce myself- and likewise- to my victims."** With my index finger still poised threateningly, the man at least twenty years my senior had but a choice to answer my request.

**"Even though it is customary for the asker introduce himself first, I know well that you are ****Itachi****Uchiha**** and last time I visited your house- ho****ld, you were but two years old."** I noted that he had spoken in a carefully unemotional voice, much to the likeness of a scolding teacher to his pupil. **"My, you've grown,"** It did not take me long to associate that exact tone of sarcasm I had come to expect from a certain sixteen year old in the Akatsuki's possession.

**"The Fourth,"** I had kept my voice calculatingly even, blank and emotionless. It was my experiences in the ANBU that had taught me to shield my emotions in this way. A shinobi must show no emotion or reaction to the battle at hand, and I had reviewed this situation within a half of a second- we had not counted on such a powerful shinobi in the ranks of the Konohoa ninja. With only Kisame, myself and the Jinchuriki- still occupying the Sannin and First Hokage's decendant to great effect with his ever- present army of clones – our out- look had seemed rather challenging at the present. **"I wonder how it is that you survived..."**My remark had been punctuated and cut short by a small explosion courtesy of Kismae's still- raging battle (those Leaf chunnin certainly had given him a run for his money). It would seem that my ploy to buy time until Kisame had finished with the medic- nin and the Inuzuka boy would have to go though a drastic plot change.

**"People who would willingly give their lives for the good of the village and loved ones are often receivers of strange fortunes. Those who would happily kill their friends and family for the sake of power are cursed to live a life riddled with misery and ****hate. If it's to free you from such ****a**** future****I****will be more than happy to end your ****life here and now, ****Itachi****, on this very battlefield."**

**"You talk so highly about these friends, comrades, mothers...fathers, daughters...sons," **My eyes had not missed the visible reaction with the Yondaime Hokage. So I had been correct in my assumption that Naruto was indeed a descendant of Arashi and inheritor of his unique Kekkei Genkai. I had wondered briefly how the man before me had survived the Kyuubi incident whilst the demon had been successfully sealed inside of his son, before finding the answer within the riddle itself- Second Sight, the ability to see within the seen, to move and achieve the otherwise impossible. Of course the Fourth had survived, possessing the most potent strain of the gene the Ninja Nations had witnessed for hundreds of years had ensured his safety after the sealing of the Kyuubi. And if I was also right in my thinking that the boy had developed (or had been well on his way to developing) an equally powerful Blood- Line Limit, the Akatsuki's problems may have been solved. A demon sealed so crudely inside a human vessel in such a fashion could just as easily be retrieved and re- sealed. Even after death.

**"I do wonder how well you will stand up to your own preaching,"** I had taken pleasure in noticing that panicked look in both shinobis' eyes as they had followed my line of sight to the battle raging between the two men and the blonde. They followed my index finger.

**"Oh, ****Naruto****, do come over here for a moment. I believe you dear father withes to introduce ****himself****,"** I had beckoned with my index finger. The fighting had stopped- both Kisame's and Naruto's battle. They had been watching. Waiting, anticipating.

**Sakura**

No-one had breathed; no- one had dared move a finger after Itachi had called Naruto to him. Having never been in one of Itachi's personal Genjutsu, I had had not idea what Naruto must have been experiencing. What I had been aware of- me and the six or seven other shinobi was this: Naruto's beaten form had disappeared in a plume of pale smoke like so many clones before him. A clone. I did not know whether to laugh or cry. I think Kiba may have been of the same mind, channelling chakra to his nose and his eyes had flickered left just as Itachi's had.

Naruto! A brief glimpse of his black- cloaked form as ten shuirken were thrown- much in vein towards the Uchiha. These were side-stepped as surely as Itachi had known they were clones under the transformation jutsu.

**"Come out, come out, little ****Naruto****!"**

**Naruto**

Never. Never had been the word that had driven me, pushed me and hindered me throughout my short life. It was both used in 'I'll never give up!' and 'You'll never become Hokage'. Another personal favourite of particular villagers had been 'You'll never be anything other than a demon," and more recently "You'll never live to your seventeenth birthday,".

I had never given up. I would become Hokage. I was not a demon, but a splendid shinobi. I would see my seventeenth birthday. And I was sure as Hell not going to jeopardise all of the above targets for the Uchiha. I had stepped forward. He had beckoned. I was trapped.

Ever so vaguely aware of my surroundings, I could feel ever so clearly the kuni knife pressing into my ribs, just below the left shoulder- blade. I could also feel the pressure; it stung the air and had made my breaths quick, short and sharp. Was I going to die? My body had seemed to think so, and being immobilised by the genjutsu had not helped, either. No-one had dared move for fear that Itatchi would plunge the kuni into my heart. No-one had been fast enough.

I think I might have died. If not, how could I possibly see my father? He had been there- just over an arm's length from me, his serious eyes, God, those serious eyes...Those strange eyes that were changing even as I had watched them, making my world darker and inverting the colours. I vaguely wondered why my front- the black now inverted into white was steadily changing into a cyan kind of blue.

I had thought that was strange, after all the opposite of black was white...

I was also slightly surprised to find my 'Father' walk ever so calmly to behind here Itachi stood, and take him in a hold much like I had been in. A kuni was brought out and his throat was cut rather unceremoniously. I knew he would crumple when the world reverted to its original colour scheme and then the blood would gush from his neck. I hadn't been surprised. Strange.

In fact, I hadn't had any sort of major emotion to this drastic change of events. It was as if my feelings on the matter had drained away with the colours of the world. Giddy, and tired at once. Tired, yes I had been tired- my eyes already closing as the blonde shinobi had come back round to face me.

I remember recalling faintly how tall he was- and strong, I could feel the tension in his chest as my face connected with his shoulder. The world had played a trick on me- the colour had returned, but it had tripped me so that I had fallen against him and had kept me so suspiciously weak so that I found I could not remove myself, either.

A hand- his hand came up, and I had watched as it pushed away some of the blonde tufts obscuring my eyes, clear ocean- eyes reflecting in identical ones as I peered up curiously- at what point had it become such an effort to move my head? I had been...quite comfortable against this- angel? Apparently he wasn't in too good a shape as I had found out when he had collapsed with exhaustion, throwing the two of us to the unforgiving earth. I had lain there on my side staring into the man in an identical position.

His face was a sore- looking red colour and his eyes suspiciously wet and puffy.

He reached out again, though I had seen what an effort it must have been for him, to trace the lines of my face like a man unable to believe in something who has to touch it for it to exist at all.

I had opened my mouth in defiance of the situation, wanting to make the most of my breath and draw attention to my shirt, which had soaked at a dangerously rapid rate. Some Hokage I was going to make. Not even Kyuubi could have changed anything.

**"Some things were never meant to be, were they?"**

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There is a reason for the flashback in the first part of this chapter- something I'm thinkning of developing on in the (possible) next chapter. If I do a next chapter, then again, I don't think I've covered the NaruSaku as much as I should (could?) have.

Soooo...cliff-hanger, eh? I'm not quite sure how I ended up here- by the way, I'm very sorry it took so long- my artistic 'talents' (if you can call them that) didn't seem to gather when I wanted- it took a new Foo Fighters CD and a whole load of chocolate for this chapter to get done tonight :)

The fic could effectively end here, although like I say, I might take the time to write another chapter, I just need to develop some new material- I have no time anymore thanks to school!

What did you think of it? Was the angst too much? Questions? Opinions? I've had more people put this on alerts than actually reviewing, so if possible I'd like a review from you!

It must have been at least three weeks since I promised to update and I'm sorry, truely I am- my muse doesn't seem to want to appear of late :/

I suppose as a favour to all my faithful reviewers (:D) and Shannon, I am going to conclude this one as a NaruSaku. I will get it done. Eventually. In fact, I felt like writing tonight, but Marvin decided to play up and I need to take him in for repairs. I can't do it on this PC- it doesn't even have Word ;;


	7. Festival of Light

**Sunflowers and tears **

**Chapter 7- Festival of Light**

A/N: Well, Ican safely say this has been long in the making. I feel so guilty! Sorry for the delay for anyone who still cares, I really was in a dilema about how to end it- the cliffhanger seemed so convenient! Any reviews are, as always, warmly appreciated- I may get inspired to write another fic again some time :D

10th October- the date the Kyuubi was sealed

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The air of Konohoa had a stiffness about it, a cloyness differentiating from that of the quickly passing, yet long- lasting, Summer. For those old enough- and these cases were not uncommon- it meant bitter memories and tales of sacrifice. For the youth, and indeed the older teens first to be those without witness of such an event, it was a time for sticky apples, treats and old tales of heroism which- for the shinobi concerning- were not very old at all. Indeed, October 10th was drawing ever closer. The evidence could be found in the strings of scarlet and rusty-like auburn lanterns strung between streets, so much so that some had been found to duck under them in the process of passing through- but they did not mind. It could be found in the premature independent fireworks deep into the night, illuminating an already glitter- lit city under the pregnant –yes, scarlet- moon. It was found in the pilgrim merchants and their heavy -loaded beasts staking out their place in the streets; in the shop-fronts where you could see no reflection for the (often artificial) blare of golden-white light; in the small pouches of boiled sweets and chocolates clutched in the hands of younger children (often to be forgotten altogether in the excitement and significance of the event, but that, too, did not matter). It was found in the alleyways that the festival seemed to have forgotten, as a cheaply- produced Hokage statue, not forgotten at all, but placed there with bold significance; in the darkest districts of the city it could be found as a short candle against the outside sill of a black- washed rickety window. You could find it if you wondered into the solemn parts of such a city. You would find it even before you entered the cemetery, in the form of a golden glaze on the horizon. It marked the brilliant defiance of the deads' will to keep living through the light of such a device, to keep breathing that very oxygen by the flame of the candle. It marked the true beginning of the autumn. It marked the reap of sacrifice, though new generations were quickly forgetting in this fact.

It was found on the mountainside. Where a thousand lights delivered glittered like tears on the saviors of the people. They said that each light was a precious person they'd fought or died to protect, and if you'd take the time to look a little closer to the fourth pair of eyes resting deep on the mountainside, one light just inside the iris glowed a little brighter. Perhaps it was an electrical fault. Perhaps it wasn't.

To say the Hokage was tired would be to earn yourself a slap across the side of the head. To say the Hokage was utterly exhausted- no matter what level of truthfulness such a statement could achieve- would get you thrown against a wall. To say the Hokage was a little drained- although in no way less beautiful, perhaps even more so with each day of gathered wisdom, may have just saved your life. For the Hokage was tired, though she bestowed death, and a very painful one, too, she might have added, to anyone who would have reminded her of such things. A Hokage must work regardless of personal feelings or strain to upkeep and protect afore mentioned city, whist masking weaknesses which might dishearten her disciples or give them cause to doubt. And right now to Tsunade, that one weakness was the urge to crawl up under her desk and sleep away the festival. Hadn't it scarcely been four weeks since the incident regarding the Akatsuki had landed a majority of her finest and most talented shinobi into the city's hospital (a fact marked ironic, as those among the injured included the most potent healer underneath the Hokage, Sakura) and in some (it stung Tsunade to think back on), deaths?

He hand seemingly sound its way to the Hokage's face and she thought on the situation. _This festival….Now is the very worst time to be opening up old wounds. __Especially …._She glanced sharply at the shinobi before her, not unkindly, although without an edge of smoothing comfort. In her eyes was reason, and logic. If she had the ability to apply compassion of this kind, perhaps she would have. After all, the Hokage had not, unlike the blonde before her, lost an only child in this way. _It's deeper than death, even__…_

"I'm fine," Came the answer to the rhetorical question yet to be given life by the older of the two. Standing before the Hokage's desk, Arashi was swiftly reminded of his days as a gennin, a chuunin and jouunin, standing in such a same fashion; as Hokage himself (and those days are not to be revisited if not without my son, he thought bitterly) and the events of his decent from Fire Shadow….

"Arashi," The Ledgendary Sucker- that name now forgotten by the greater majority of the public, on accounts of concerns over personal safety- lowered her hands down onto the oak table and honey eyes met icy blues for a moment, even if an attempted understanding condolence was turned down by its target. "What do you propose we do? If I am honest with you- and here I speak from one Hokage to another, some things…..happen the way they happen." She paused as her predecessor adopted a bitter face, a wronged child, she might have thought, although it may have also been unfair to think of him as that.

"You'd be surprised at how much time can heal." For a percentage of a moment, her gaze lingered in the distance, remembering, "It may seem that these recent events have happened at the most inconveniencing-no, an understatement- of times," She waved her hand, trying to portray her message regardless of deep words, "But perhaps…."-and here she played out her words carefully- "This might, help open up some old feelings and help others resolve some wronged feelings," At this, Arashi nodded guiltily.

"You say it takes time, you keep saying this to me, Tsundae…it's hard. There's so much….ah, things are so complicated now, it's….frustrating to say the least," The older woman old enough to be the man's mother- and, indeed, though of him in such a manner, bowed her head respectfully, not minding that Arashi was on the verge of openly weeping.

"But you know, Arashi," And here she winked playfully in an attempt- perhaps not an entirely successful one, but one with an effect of slight, at least, "You'll always be eternally grateful for my god-like healing abilities. Otherwise, your son really would be dead."

Naruto Uzumaki was seventeen. He was seventeen before he opened his eyes fully, woken by that flittering in his stomach which he supposed originated from a feeling similar to that of a child expecting a gift on that day, but seeing as the now- seventeen- year- old had known no such thing, he pinned the excitement on the fact that he was no longer sixteen. He was seventeen. That was the important thing. For a moment he contemplated switching the digital alarm off- its squaking would surely have woken the neighbors who could –heaven forbid! – recommend his removal to the landlord, besides, seeping in seemed so immature, so… sixteen year old!

The morning washing-and-dressing ritual was now, and had been for nearing a month, been accompanies by a creaking coldness that couldn't be quite called pain, but something close to stiffness in his upper torso. So far it had not harbored the teen during training- or indeed actual fighting, although there had been little opportunity for this sort of exertion after his miraculous recovery and near death experience, but he still felt it like an overhanging cloud, reminding him of how close he had come, like a knife in the back. _Or a kuni in the __ribs_, he thought with a small smile.

"Thank the gods for Granny Tsunade," He had, of course, carefully avoided thinking of any other shinobi- particularly a certain former Hokage, whilst giving his worded prayer. There were some feelings too painful to be unearthed.

Only a few hours later did Naruto find himself , on his seventeenth birthday….watching a mundane movie on his small screened TV. Truthfully, he hadn't been out a lot. He hadn't much left his flat at all lately, he would openly admit to his friends, friends which had conveniently , and very gratefully by Naruto, had brought him some groceries from time to time, keeping him from the need to venture outside. Of course they had tried to coax him outside, as had the majority of the senior Jouunin instructors- Kakashi being the most persistent, but t no prevail no matter how many promises of ramen, and even more promises of _free _ramen. 'Free' was a very important word for a teenager living on his own. Unfortunately, it had appeared as if there were more important things, such as playing 'dodge the Hokage', whether that be Tsunade of the Fourth.

The Fourth. Arashi. Everyone knew, or the uncertain suspected that this was the reason for Naruto's sudden phobia of the 'outside world'. It had been Kakashi's first thought that Naruto did not know how to approach this man now claiming to be his long- lost father. He had thought that it may well have been the happiest day of Naruto's life- Naruto's _seventeen years_ of life. Seventeen was an important number. However, his theory was proven the furthest from the truth of Naruto's well- wishes, as they had found out after an explosive argument in the Hokage's office as Naruto had fought viciously (verbally of course, although certain eavesdroppers had been left in question after toll of crashes a war-cries) _against_ meeting the Fourth Hokage. The Uzumakis had, on a whim from Tsunade ( and quite an accurate one, Sakura had exclaimed in despair) been kept apart for their recovery, the Yondaime retiring to the Hokage's office with Tsunade and Naruto himself under self- imprisonment.

It was thought that Naruto did not venture outside for fear that he may come across the Yondaime himself, which had somehow proven to be his worst fear, now with the added reasoning that the Yondaime seemingly miraculous return had been announced to the public, quietly. However, it was the_ essence_ of the festival that his spectators had not picked up on. It was the very essence, the memory of what had happened that night. The night Naruto's father had left him. Not even a day old.

Indeed, many were speculating about the teen, though none seemingly held the answer to his voiceless question _'Why me?__'_.

The movie rolled on much the same as it always had- Naruto's DVD collection dwindling on near four titles, much as it always had. His friends, also had positioned themselves around his modest (how Sakura had politely described it upon first viewing) apartment- Naruto stretched across his own sofa on his back, his head resting welcomingly on Sakura's lap. Sakura herself- whilst filing her fingers through the blonde's wild flares and spikes- was seemingly the only one who had remained upright, if not only for Naruto's head preventing her otherwise. Kiba had occupied the floor beneath Naruto, his head sometimes nudging Naruto's hand playfully, making an open mock of Sakura's treatment towards him. Naruto obliged sometimes, too, and he found that it was almost as relaxing to run your fingers through someone's hair as having being on the receiving end from Sakura. Almost.

Shikamaru had occupied the battered armchair, and had taken to draping himself across it sideways, having migrated form the third seat on the sofa to there on the basis that Kiba's head in the way of the TV was 'too trouble some,' No-one had battled his logic, the priorities of both Naruto and Kiba being that they were both comfortable.

So comfortable, that Naruto didn't that'd he'd fallen asleep, or that Sakura had stealthily slipped from beneath him, or even that Kiba and Shikamaru had also left him –seemingly- alone in his apartment. With the natural light growing steadily ever darker, it was the singing that first stirred Naruto from the couch, the singing, the drums and those damn fireworks. Oh, of course it was the noise that had woken him, but it was the sight of the Yondaime that had _really_ woken him up. After seventeen years, even Naruto had to admit that Arashi Uzumaki had aged well. At an estimate, he couldn't have placed him over 37, which admittedly would have been rather accurate.

And after seventeen years- there he was! How many times as a young child had Naruto hoped for the impossible? The thought of a real Father, breathing, loving and alive? _Too often._

_God, he's just standing there, wearing my mouth, my eyes- even the hair! _Even as he thought it, Naruto was reminded rather painfully that it was _he _who had borrowed the Yondiame's features.

"Naruto, I'm sorry," The words were said calmly, smoothly and deliberately, if not without an edge of grief and remorse. A firework briefly illuminated the older man's face and he shifted uncomfortably, the wall obviously stiff against his shoulders. _How long has he been there?_

"I don't know what you're talking about," Naruto uttered stubbornly, with just as much defiance as there was sincerity in his father's voice. The Yondaime frowned, much the same as a puppy might have if a puppy might have gone to the ends of the world to bring back his son, only to be rejected again. He tried a different approach.

"Naruto…you must see what happened that night, that it was the only way, the _only _way that I could guarantee both yours and the village's safety," He sighed heavily, arms folded exhaustedly over his chest and icy blue eyes raking the floor. "If there was another way, I would have…" And then, quietly:

"But you didn't have to leave. You didn't have to leave me alone."

"I thought you would have at least had your mother, I've had to grieve her too, Naruto. She died bringing you into the world. You were all I had left,"

"Don't you dare!" Came the scream from the young Jinchuurki. "I'm not in some kind of…of debt to you! It's because of you the majority of my life has been _hell_!" He hissed out a breath quickly, not realizing that he had leapt off the sofa to stare the very man in the eyes. "You made me what I am! A J-Jinchuuriki! That's what I am! A freak!" Arashi took the chance to reach out to his son, his hand barely sweeping the teen's shoulder before it was whipped away viciously.

"That power, is a cure, yes, but also a blessing. I believed that you would wield it for the right purposes for the village! And look! You're a fine shinobi already, Naruto, and you're not even Jouunin yet," His voice had calmed again from utter desperation as he tried- perhaps in vain- to make the blonde see his reasoning.

"It might not have always been like that. I could have gone the other way, too. The way Gaara went." Naruto's voice shook- not with anger or raw hatred, as it had, but one the verge of tears.

"You needed someone to show you, Naruto. I'm so so _sorry_,"

"I needed a father," Naruto crumpled, his frame doubling over with the grief of remembering the experiences, the heartache and the difficulty that was being a child without a friend or parent in the world, having to play for attention like he had. And all along he had been the son of the greatest Hokage. "I didn't mean it," He sobbed into the Hokage jacket (for Arashi had been presented with a new Yondaime jacket after his return to Konohoa, even though he had no intention of taking up the Hokage mantel again. That, he had decided, was for his son to follow. "When I- I s-said that some things- I didn't mean it!" Through the hysteric sobbing- something which the older man suspected had been the first time in Naruto's life- he understood that he was referring to Naruto's wound those four months ago, when the very first and last words he had said to his father were 'Some things were never meant to be'

"It's okay, son…it's okay. We both have a lot to learn. And I have a lot to make up for. I'm so sorry." Although unknown to the younger of the two, in a tight embrace with the teen, Arashi was weeping. He was weeping, holding onto the son he thought he would never live to hold.

Watching the festival- now in full swing in the dead of night, lights glittering like insects' eyes wherever the eye could lay on, the current Hokage smiled, and relaxed in her executive's chair, her exhaustion temporarily forgotten in the mood of the party.

"Oh yes, it looks like things are about to get very interesting indeed. Happy birthday, Naruto," She toasted a glass of wine to an empty room as she watched the festival from her lengthy window.

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